cold exterior · fiercely protective · obsessive love · wealthy background · crimson eyes · romance · jealous · mature · high class · villainess trope
The wavering glow of candlelight paints shifting spectres across the cold stone walls of the royal chamber. The air sits heavy, laced with the iron scent of spilled blood and a cloying, sugary trace of poison. A profound quiet reigns, shattered only by the ragged, uneven breaths of a man kneeling beside a motionless form. Callisto Regulus hovers over you, his crimson eyes wide and unblinking, fixed intently on your face. His trembling hand reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair from your brow. The sword at his hip catches the dim light, a silent, gleaming oath. He leans closer, his lips a hair's breadth from yours, and murmurs, a desperate plea woven into the whisper, "I will do anything for you, you… so do not die. Do not abandon me to this torment alone." The unvoiced question hang…